Mine
by Terapsina
Summary: Spike had reasons for why he didn't call Buffy, this story shows them and a bit more too. After all Buffy can't remain oblivious forever. Spuffy.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: Please don't hate me. I know I was supposed to update the story I already have and I will, but this lodged into my brain and I couldn't work on anything else until it was written down. I have no idea what I think about it, but I do hope you like it.

o0O0o

He _wanted_ her to move on with life. He wanted her to finally be happy and loved, and he hoped she would finally start to drink in the world around her in a way she never could or would before. And he still wanted all that for her even if she moved on to love someone else, because ultimately for a passionate creature like her that's what it would take. Now that he was back however he just couldn't bear to watch it happen. So he didn't call, send a letter or show up at her doorstep proclaiming his newly Undead-Again status.

Most of it was fear, some of it was a reluctance to once again try and worm his way into the tightly knit group the Scoobies made, the group that had never welcomed him there anyway. And he was fine then, he was finally learning how it was to belong. It might truthfully be a far cry away from how he felt with Buffy those months before he went up in flames or even with his Bit those years ago. But he would never regain that even if he did find them. After all, his Nibblet still hated his guts, probably still fantasized about setting him on fire too. Wasn't that he didn't actually deserve it, because he did, that and so much worse. But again, seeing someone who he perceived as a little sister loathing him as much as she had after he came back with his soul in place might manage to finally end him.

But all that amounted to nothing when he learned that she actually _had_ moved on, and with the bloody Immortal of all beings. He could understand if she chose someone other than human, - he never thought normal was good enough for his Golden Goddess anyway, - but the Immortal was so far beneath her the Slayer shouldn't have glanced at him twice. And God did it _hurt_, watching the Soddin' Tosser dance with her, touch her in a way she never allowed him to was like putting a stake where to a vampire like him it did the most damage. If he needed proof that she hadn't really meant it, this would be it.

Until he and his dear Granddaddy flew back and accepted the fact that the most successful Slayer wasn't under any spells influencing her admittedly somewhat poor decision making skills, he could still dream her last words to him weren't a lie. Truth really was a mighty bitter pill. After 120 years of living as a vampire and the sorry life of a human before that, he had thought he had experienced every pain imaginable. At least he was getting used to being wrong, in many ways Buffy ended up bringing him the most heartache. She beat him senseless, put him in that wheelchair at a time he most needed his legs, brought back Drusilla's Daddy, made him long for her and smell Captain Cardboard all over her, got rejected over and over again in the most humiliating ways possible, made him promise to live in a world without her and worst of all made him love her. Lord, sometimes he could almost manage to hate the stupid Bint with her stupid hair, her stupid scent and those stupid green eyes, that for so long were the only parts of her telling him her true feelings.

He used to be able to read her so well, used to be able to tell her mood by those emerald gems alone, but then her true feelings started flickering from one extreme to the other in less than a second and she became a contradiction he wasn't permitted to understand. Sometimes he wished he and Dru had never gone to Prague, the crazy Vampiress had never gotten sick and they had never traveled to that sunny hell where he met his perfect match and lost her before ever really having her. But even with all this agony coursing through him at the mere thought of someone else kissing his Slayer, touching and loving her like he would never again be able to he still didn't seriously want for that wish to become real. And he could do so, he was bloody aware that any Vengeance Demon would jump at the chance to grant him that particular wish. But he was well aware of the consequences; after all without him there she might have died by the hand of Angelus or maybe even Adam. And he would never willingly bring about her death again, besides despite all the bad he didn't really want to give up his love for her, or those rare moments where she returned some little part of his emotions.

Still he missed her, that's why his apartment so _'generously'_ given to him by Angel was empty of any personality he used to tend to bring with himself. There were no candles or expensive silk sheets, or even a big comfortable bed he always used to like. There was still that impossible hint of hope that maybe he wouldn't have to stay there, that she would come for him and they would finally have that happy ending her words might have promised. Every night he went back there to sleep was another day she hadn't come. And if she wanted to she would have come, the snotty nosed boy wouldn't have kept his trap shut, and he didn't believe for a moment that Mr.-New-Head-of-the-Council Giles didn't have people keeping an eye on untrustworthy Gramps. That meant they knew about his undusty state, so she knew too. And she hadn't come, not even to pop him in the nose for not calling her. Heavens, he even missed that.

That was it, no denying it anymore he wanted to see them again. Despite how much torture that would bring to his already damaged heart he wanted to see both her and his Bit for one final time, before giving up that hopeless longing of them caring about him completely. But that was for later, first he had another end of the world battle to live through, couldn't just leave Oxford, Charlie Boy and Blue to fend for themselves, although dropping everyone's precious Angel might have almost been worth it, - sadly his treacherous soul didn't agree.

Dear God the universe hated him. Angel had gotten that pulse to work becoming a real boy again, he could play real checkers with the real Juliet to his brooding Romeo and he had never had more urge to retch than he did at that very moment. Somewhere up there some higher Power entertained itself by making his immortal unlife as excruciating as it could manage. He had promised to go see them after the scuffle with Wolfram and Hart was done with, but going there with a breathing Poofter was asking a little bit too much of even his pain tolerance. Seeing her with anyone would cause suffering, but with Angel it was a whole new level. To love her and then stand by while she wrapped her deceptively little hands around the bane of his existence, to then listen to whispered promises of growing old and raising children and most of all to witness another 'Hello' kiss between them. He couldn't do it, he might always keep his promises, but he couldn't keep this one and he reserved the right to break a quiet promise that was never really voiced anyway.

Well that was that, Angel had left and he wasn't forced to constantly listen to all the little details of his planned future with the one woman his poet's heart loved more than his life or his soul. Then again sometimes he hated his soul, without it he knew the demon within would have given into the desire to kill the man torturing him with stories of cookies and promises of an undying love. He really couldn't understand how no one saw exactly how minor the difference between Angel and Angelus really was. Then again every human he had so far met had the ability to sink their head into sand and ignore the truths around them.

Traveling around with the blue God King was almost fun, at least when she got them into trouble by constantly insulting one demon or another he could fight and for a moment forget that Buffy was on the other side of the world using her hands, body and mouth to bring pleasure to someone _else_, to _seek_ pleasure from someone else, from Angel.

He had never really wanted to be Angel, not even when he knew that both women he had at some point (or still) loved were completely in love with the Big Forehead instead. He just hated him too much to ever want to be him. But now, _now_ he really almost didn't care that changing places with him would mean becoming human, and he really disliked the idea of becoming William the Ponce again, of being weak again.

It took him two more months before his resolve to never contact anyone remotely connected with Buffy broke. He just needed to know she was alright, that no new Apocalypse had taken her from the world that didn't really deserve her. And he needed to know that his Dawn was alright too. But he couldn't bring himself to hear their voices either, so that left only one avenue free, he had to somehow find the phone number of a very famous Wicca.

Red acted more surprised than he had expected after hearing from him, but that might have been from the shock of him calling her and not someone else, he refused to think about that someone else. At least now he could console himself with the knowledge that his girls were alright, both attending college and living the life they deserved. He never asked about the personal life of Buffy, didn't want to hear sympathy in Willow's answer, didn't really want to hear the answer either.

Her Highness had finally lost her frigging noggin', turns out the Elder demon wanted to have a look at the rest of the filth infested earth and apparently America was too small for her liking. Incidentally she had decided that Rome was the city that should be graced with her presence first. Why he always decided to take care of the bossy birds he'll never understand, at least he's not suicidal enough to fall for this one, not that he could if he wanted to. Still, she had grown on him, the fact that he was willing to step a foot in Italy of all countries should prove that.

Rome, sweet Rome. It hadn't changed much since the last time he was there, although that really wasn't all that long ago and so the longing to see Buffy hadn't waned either. For a week he stayed in an abandoned church unwilling to leave its walls after the dark fell less he actually run into the one woman he both wanted to see desperately and feared to meet with a passion. In the end the decision was taken away from him when Blue called him from her mobile – and didn't those long lessons still give him a headache even when just thinking about them. Apparently she'd just beaten three strong girls unconscious and had the good sense to ask him if she was allowed to rip out their innards for their insolent attack on her being. After a quick argument where he barely convinced her that playing with three Slayers' guts wasn't the best idea, as they probably hadn't even known they were attacking royalty anyway he left to get her before something could change her mind. He was in such a hurry he almost forgot to tell Blue to hide the unconscious girls, he didn't think he would live long if some other White Hat found them first and Smurfette reacted negatively to him protecting them from her too.

It was just his luck to get there in time to see a blond spitfire flying towards Illyria with the intention of ripping her Highness to pieces. Thank the Powers he grabbed her in time to stop that disaster, he knew damn well he otherwise wouldn't have been able to stop his blue partner from beating Buffy bloody. His favorite Slayer might have been familiar with fighting Gods, but this time she probably wouldn't know that that's what she was about to attack and there weren't any helpful Troll Hammers lying around. Because of the thoughts running through his mind it took him a second to grasp the feeling of having her in his arms again, of swimming in her scent again, it took another moment to realize she had frozen in shock. Letting her go was almost physically painful, his chest constricted in the effort it took to step back.

He sorely doubted he would ever forget the look of hopeful awe that for just a moment lit her face, he definitely knew the flash of anger was more familiar although no less memorable in that instant. The fist heading for his nose wasn't unexpected, he still didn't try to save it from her questionable mercy of course, it would make her feel better and save the other parts of his anatomy. However unexpected to him Illyria's furious yell about touching her pet was it still looked like a train wreck that could be seen coming from miles away, but Buffy's response of tears after looking from Blue to him was not. The next moment she was already running, he rolled his eyes, at least some things didn't change even if he couldn't recall a time she had turned and run after getting angry. That confusion gave his Slayer enough time to vanish and only then his brain registered the fact that his Slayers scent didn't hold a trace of his former Grandsire, suddenly coming to Rome was no longer a mistake in progress.

Well how was he supposed to know that his Slayer hadn't known that he was alive? He might have told Andrew to keep his gob shut, but he didn't actually expect the boy to listen. Besides he never gave such instructions to Red. And he didn't care what his girls thought, Ripper would certainly have known, he remembered how untrusting the Watcher was. Sending lookers to Wolfram and Hart would have been the first thing he would have done the moment he learned about Angel's new position in the law firm.

Jealousy might become his new favorite emotion. Seeing Buffy look at him and Blue as if she wanted to throttle them was strangely reassuring. Still, when a more grown up Dawn joined her sister's glares with the best of her own he almost opened his mouth to tell them there was no reason to react as if he betrayed the love of his life. He was still in love with his Slayer, even though he might have tried to stop. Of course at that point the silently warring factions were joined by the Immortal bugger who likes to steal his lovers and gave his _Nibblet_ a kiss. Suddenly he inwardly fought over the two reactions he wanted to loudly express; one was the elation he felt because it seemed his Golden Goddess who was still sending him wounded looks had never been seeing the demonic Italian; and the other was rage because innocent little Dawnie was being groped by a male that wasn't even from the same species. It was a close call and the yelling match of the ages would still be in his future, but the words that burst out were related to the fact that he doesn't see Blue in any romantic sense.

God, he loved that woman. The screaming and crying match might have dragged on until dawn and gone on for hours, but by the end of it he finally knew she loved him. And _knowing_ that almost made it the best day he had lived through, the only night even sweeter was when they finally ended his painful existence by starting something he always hoped for, but never believed would get. And all it took were two exchanged words that locked their essences together. All it took was saying a four letter word.

"Mine."


End file.
